


Ram Horns

by deepestfathoms



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Anger, Anne is a little shit, Drabble, Gen, Joan is PISSED, Short One Shot, Yelling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:47:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22825885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepestfathoms/pseuds/deepestfathoms
Summary: After the queens continuously don’t pay attention during rehearsals, Joan finally snaps. Anne is at the tail end of her anger.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	Ram Horns

It was a day before a live TV performance on some hit show was going to happen and none of the queens were paying attention during the rehearsals. Anne and Kitty were messing around with a stupid fortune teller they had made, Cathy was reading, Jane and Aragon were talking about something derogatory they heard someone on the street say, Cleves was doing a fucking Live-

Joan couldn’t handle it.

“Guys,” She said loudly.

They didn’t seem to hear her.

“Guys!” She tried again.

Nothing.

Joan’s blood boiled. She had had enough of the queens not giving a shit about the show. Her anger has reached its breaking point.

“Would you just listen to me for two seconds?!”

Finally, she had their attention. Kitty even flinched, but Joan didn’t care.

“I need you all to pay attention. Please. We- we have a really important show tomorrow and we can’t mess it up! So- please. _Please_ just focus and practice.”

There were a few mumbled apologies and agreements. Joan let out a heavy sigh and nodded, turning to her keyboard.

“Geez…” Anne muttered from behind her, “Someone’s got a stick up her ass.” She and Kitty giggle.

Something in Joan’s chest snapped.

“What was that, Boleyn?” She rounds on the woman. Suddenly, her lamb-like appearance has grown dangerous horns that are primed for queen blood. “Is there something you want to say?”

“No.” Anne said, slightly ruffled about being called out for her childish behavior.

“No? Are you sure? Please, say it! I’d love to hear it!”

“It’s nothing…” Anne muttered, hunching her shoulders in. She isn’t looking at the music director anymore- her eyes were smoldering silver coals that bore directly into her soul.

“If it’s just ‘nothing’ then DON’T FUCKING SAY SOMETHING NEXT TIME!” Joan yelled in her face. “I am so sorry that the show is an inconvenience to you and you think you can just dick around instead of actually doing something, but some of us want to make a living and be financially stable! So start caring just a little bit more or leave because we have plenty of people to replace you.”

For a moment, Anne is genuinely scared and hurt, but then she bares her teeth and gathers herself back up. She’s taller than Joan, but somehow the music director is still more frightening than she is. Maybe it’s because of the dark shadows weighing under her murderous, cold grey eyes and her pale skin that makes her look like a livid banshee.

“You can’t talk to me like that.” Anne growled.

“If you haven’t noticed, Boleyn, you aren’t queen anymore. You have no more power. I’m not a slave to any of you- you can’t make me do anything.” A smirk twists on Joan’s lips. It makes Anne uneasy. “But you know what _I_ can do? This: _Get out_.”

Anne falters. She glanced frantically at Cathy, then Aragon, then Jane, and then Kitty and Cleves. They all looked as shocked as she was.

“You- you can’t do that.” Anne said.

“Yes I can.” Joan struck back smoothly, “The director put me in charge of this performance. I can make you do whatever I want, and I want you to get your ass out of here. _Now_.”

Anne’s mouth opened and closed like a sparkling green fish caught on a hook. She looked around helplessly again, hoping for one of the others to step in and help her, but they didn’t dare get caught in the crossfire. Not when Joan was so pissed off.

“I- Y- Wh-” She tried to say.

“Wh-wh-what?” Joan mocked harshly. “What, Boleyn? What? I made myself clear. Get out. You aren’t going to be in this performance.”

“You can’t-”

“I CAN, Boleyn. I _FUCKING CAN!_ And I DID. NOW GET OUT!” Joan roared.

Anne flinched. With one last glance around her, she turned and walked out, her movements made with great shame in her step.

Once she’s gone, Joan finally lets herself breathe. She muttered several curses to herself as she pressed her hand to her eyes and bounced her leg impatiently.

“Joan-”

“Don’t you even fucking start with me, Seymour.” Joan snarled.

Several of the queens gasped, including Jane. Joan has never referred to her by her last name before… Hearing it was startling and…hurtful and offensive.

“I am going to go call in Boleyn’s alt. When I get back you all better be practicing or there will be hell to pay. Don’t think I won’t send any of you out, too.”

With that, she turned and stormed away like a charging bighorn sheep, unbeknownst to Cleves’ Live, which was still steadily filming.


End file.
